Il pastor fido: or The faithfull shepheard. Translated out of Italian into English

SCE. 2.

Dorinda, Linco.

LInco, I am assur'd thou knowst me not.

Lin.

Who would haue thought that in these rusty rags Gentle Dorinda had been euer hid. Were I some Dogge, as I but Linco am, Vnto thy cost I should thee know too well. VVhat do I see? Dor. Linco, thou seest great loue, VVorking effectes both strange and miserable.

Lin.

One like thy selfe, so soft so tender yet, That wer't but now (as one would say) a babe, And still me thinkes it was but yesterday Since in mine armes I had thee little wretch, Ruling thy tender cryes, and taught thee too To call thy Father Dad, thy Mother Mamme: When in your house I was a Seruant hir'd, Thou that so like a fearefull Doe wa'st wont To feare earch thing before thou feltst this loue, Why, on a sodaine thee would scarre each blast, Each Bird that stird a bush, each Mouse that from Her hole did run, each Leafe would make thee start, Now wandrest all alone by hills, by woodes, Fearing no Beast that hauntes the Forrestes wilde?

Dor.

Wounded with Loue, who feares another hurt.

Lin.

Loue had great power, that could not onely thee Into a Man, but to a Wolfe transeforme.

Dor.

O Linco, could'st thou but see here within, There should'st thou see a lyuing Wolfe deuoure

My wretched soule like to a harmeles Lambe.

Lin.

And who's that Wolfe? Siluio. Do. Ah thou hast said.

Lan.

Thou, for he is a Wolfe, hast changd thy selfe Into a Wolfe because no humane lookes Could mooue his loue, perhaps this beastes yet mought. But tell me, where had'st thou these cloathes so ragd?

Do.

I'le tell thee true, to day I went betime There where I heard that Siluio did intend A noble hunting to the sauage Boore, At Erimantus foote, where Eliceit Puts vp his head, not farre off from the lawnd, That from the hill is seuer'd by discent, I found Mel••mpo my faire Siluioes Dogge, Whose thirst I thinke had drawne him to that place: I that each thing of Siluio held full deare, Shade of his shape, and footsteps of his feete, Much more the Dogge which he so dearely lou'd, Him straightway tooke, and hee without adoo, Like to some gentle Cade, came quietly with mee: Now whilst I cast this Dogge to reconuey Home to his Lord and mine, hoping to make A conquest of his loue by guift so deare, Behold he comes seeking his footsteps out, And heere he stayes. Deare Linco I will not Leese further time in telling euery thing That twixt vs past, but briefly to dispatch: After a heape of faigned vowes and wordes, The cruell Boy fled from me straight away In ire'full mood with his thrice-happy Dogge, And with my deare and sweetest sweete reward.

Lin.

Oh desperate Siluio! Oh cruell Boy! What didst thou then? Disdaind'st thou not his deed?

Dor.

As if the heate of his disdaine had been Of loue vnto my hart the greatest fire, So by his rage increased my desire: Yet still pursuing him vnto the chace, Keeping my broken way, I Lupus met, Heere thought I good with him to change my cloathes,

And in his seruile habite me to hide, That mongst the Swaines I for a Swaine might passe, And at my pleasure see my Sila••o.

Lin.

Went'st thou to hunt in likenesse of a Woolfe, Seene by the Dogges, and yet return••••'st safe? Domida, thou hast done 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Do

〈◊〉〈◊〉 No wonder t'is, the Dogge•• could do no harme Vnto their Maisters 〈…〉〈…〉. There stood I 〈…〉〈…〉 sort Of neighbour 〈…〉〈…〉, Rather to see the 〈…〉〈…〉. At euery 〈…〉〈…〉 Beast My hart did quake: 〈…〉〈…〉 My soule step: 〈…〉〈…〉 But my chiefe hope the 〈…〉〈…〉 disterb'd, Of that immeasurable Boore 〈…〉〈…〉, Like as the rau'nous strength of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 storme In little time bringes trees and rockes to ground: So by his tuskes bedew'd with blood and foame, VVe see Dogges slaine, Staues broke, and wounded men. How many times did my poore blood desire For Siluioes blood to combat with the Boore, How often times would I haue stept to make My brest a buckler for my Siluioes brest, How often sayd I in my sefe, excuse, Excuse the daintie lapp of my deare Loue: So to my selfe spake I with praying sighes, VVhilst he his Dogge all arm'd with hardned skin, Lets loose against the Beast, who waxed proud Of hauing made a wretched quarries sight Of wounded Shepheardes and Dogges slaine outright: Linca, I cannot tell this Dogges great worth, And Siluio loues him not without good cause. Looke how an angry Lyon entertaines The poynted hornes of some vndaunted Bull, Sometime with force, sometime with pollicie, And fastens at the last his mightie pawes So on his backe as no powre can remou't:

So strong Me••••••••p' auoyding craftely The Boores swift 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and mortall wounding blowes: At last taints on his eare, which first he shakes, And afterward so firmely him he holdes, As his vast sides might wounded be at ease: The dismall token of a deadly stroke, The Siluio innocating Phoebes name, Du••ct this blow (sayd he) and here I vow To sacrifize to thee his gastly head. This l••yd, from out his q••uer of pure gold, He takes a speedy Sha••t, and to his eare He drawes his mighty Bow, and straight the Boore Betweene his neck•• and shoulder wounded, dyes: I free'd a sigh, seeing my Silui•• safe. Oh happy beast mightst thy life so leaue, By him that hartes from humane beastes doth reaue.

Lin.

But what became of that same fearefull beast?

Dor.

I do not know, because I came away For feare of being seene: But I beleeue That solemnly they meane to carry it Vnto the Temple, as my Siluio vow'd.

Lin.

And meane you not to change these rustie cloathes?

Dor.

Yes wis full faine, but Liep••••e hath my Gowne, And promised t'attende me at this Spring, But 〈◊〉〈◊〉 misse: deare Linco if thou lou'st me Goe seeke him in these Woods, he is not farre, I'le rest me in the meane time by this Den, For weerinesse makes me to sleepe desire, Nor would I home returne in this attire.

Lin.

I go, and stirre not you till I returne.